The Kid And I
by venusmercurysunev
Summary: ON HIATUS. BEING REWRITTEN. HG/TR Time Travel. Details changed. Spoilers. After Dumbledore's death, Hermione is given a strange envelope that she is not allowed to open until a certain date. On the eve of the Final Battle, she opens it and promptly vanishes. FULL SUMMARY INSIDE!
1. Introduction

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Kid and I**

**Description:** HG/TR Time Travel. Details changed. Spoilers. After Dumbledore's death, Hermione is given a strange envelope that she is not allowed to open until a certain date. On the eve of the Final Battle, she opens the envelope, and promptly vanishes. Being transported into the past, she realises that she has a chance to change everything. But the ultimate question is not 'should she', it's 'will she'?

**Introduction**

Hermione sat on her bed holding an envelope from Dumbledore's will. As well as a storybook, he had left her this envelope. It was six inches by six inches and had her name written on it. It also came with a note, 'Do not open until December 31st 1999'. She was vastly curious as to what was inside it and why she couldn't open it but she respected his wishes.

!"!

It was New Years Eve, 1999. Hermione was having a good luck drink with McGonagall. The Final Battle would occur the next day. Voldemort had sent a letter offering to arrange a date for the battle, 'so a new world can start on a new millennia' He said. It was obvious He was intending to win.

Hermione was lounging back in the chair opposite the Professor as the Scottish woman poured them both a large Firewhiskey. The years since her, Harry's and Ron's search for the Horcruxes had changed Hermione drastically. She'd become very confident, maybe even arrogant, yet she was still kind. Her intelligence and loyalty had never faltered in the years, but she was quieter and more secluded than she had been in the years previous.

The envelope from Albus felt like it was burning a hole in her robes as she accepted the glass of the amber liquid from her ex-Professor.

"A big day tomorrow, Miss Granger."

"So it would seem, Professor." She sipped the liquid with a gasp and then pulled the envelope out of her pocket.

"What's that, Miss Granger?" She asked as she sat down wearily in her chair.

"It's something from Dumbledore's will. I haven't been allowed to open it until tonight." She looked the older woman in the eye. "You knew him well. What do you think it is?"

"I knew Albus well enough to know that you could never guess what one of his gifts was going to be. The only way to find out is to open it."

Hermione put her glass down and gently pulled open the envelope. It was empty except for a necklace. It was on a golden chain with a large purple stone on the end. She touched it and it warmed up and started to glow lowly.

"What is it, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked, eager to know what the gift was.

"I…I don't know." She put the necklace around her neck and held it gently, running her thumb over the sparkling stone. The heat then started to pulse, going from hot to cold to hotter to cold to even hotter. When it became so hot that she had to let go of it, it shone blindingly bright. And then she vanished.


	2. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Kid and I**

**Chapter 1**

Her body landed harshly on the ground. She stood up shakily and brushed herself off, thrown by the event. She knelt slowly, holding the necklace's jewel in her hand. She rubbed a bit of mud off of it and then watched in horror when the jewel cracked and fell into her lap. More to her horror, the telltale hourglass of a Time Turner was in the circle of gold. Dumbledore had disguised a Time Turner as a necklace, put it in stasis and then charmed it to activate when she touched it.

She grumbled as she wiped her trousers. Out of the darkness of the night, a voice called to her.

"Excuse me, Miss." It was soft and familiar. She looked up and couldn't believe her eyes. Standing in front of her was Albus Dumbledore.

"You…"

"May I ask how you came to be here, Miss? I was taking my usual stroll around the grounds and you suddenly appeared out of nowhere."

"It's you…"

"Yes, my name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

"You're here. No. You can't be here. You're dead."

"I assure you, Miss, I'm in perfect physical health. Despite what some of my students may say." He laughed lightly. "Are you injured?"

"I think I may be hallucinating, yes."

"May I suggest that I get you to the Hospital Wing, then?"

She followed in a daze and stuttered. "Excuse me, sir? If you're not dead, and I'm not hallucinating…Where am I?"

"You're in the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"And…What year is it?"

"It's June 9th 1937."

Hermione stumbled and gasped. "No…No, that can't be right. I was in Professor McGonagall's office."

"Professor McGonagall? I'm aware of a student named Minerva McGonagall but I can assure you, she is not a Professor at this school."

"We were having a drink. Tomorrow's the Final Battle against Voldemort."

"Against who, Miss?"

"Voldemort. Tom Riddle. You don't know him? Isn't he at this school?"

"No, Miss."

"But he was…He was born in 1927."

"Then he'll be starting this year."

"Um…Okay. Look, sir, I just want to go home."

"And where is home?" He asked gently.

"Surrey. England. Earth. 1999."

"You're from the future?"

"Uh…I guess so."

"Pray tell me then, Miss…Have I gone bald?" He joked with a twinkle in his eye.

"I promise, you have a full head and a full face of hair."

"But you said I was dead."

"You are."

"Oh." He seemed put out. "Well, best not know too much about the future. I don't want to spoil the surprise." His eyes held his usual twinkle that she'd missed so much. They finally came to the Hospital Wing and Dumbledore held the door open for her as she stepped in. The room hadn't changed much. It still held the clean air and pleasant smell that it did in the future but there was also a caring feel about the place. Hermione knew why when she saw an elderly maternal woman leave the matron's office and approach them with a smile on her face.

"Hello again, Albus. Your nose looks well."

Dumbledore laughed again. "Yes, the salve you administered has worked wonders. This is Miss-"

"Helen Gray." Hermione interrupted abruptly. She offered the kind woman her hand to shake.

Dumbledore looked at her in an odd way but continued to speak. "Miss Helen Gray. She had a fall outside and believes she may be hallucinating."

"Ahhh. Well dear, come and sit down and I'll look you over." She hurried Hermione to a seat then withdrew her wand and started running diagnosis spells over her. "What kind of hallucinations, dear?"

"Visual and auditory."

"Any fevers?"

"No."

"Stress?"

"Loads. Kind of a busy time at home."

"I see, dear." The tip of her wand glowed white and then faded. "Well, my dear, I see nothing wrong with you whatsoever. You're as fit as a Phoenix."

"Thank you, Miss…"

"Joan Davis. Head nurse here at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore stepped forward and smiled at them both. "Nurse Davis can work miracles. Truly."

"Well thank you for you time, Nurse." Hermione stood up and went to leave.

"Miss Gray." Dumbledore called. He walked over to her when she turned around. "I may not know exactly who you are but you seem to be rather intriguing."

"Thank you, sir."

"So…I would like to offer you a position at this school."

Hermione blinked several times before squeaking, "Pardon?"

"Yes. Our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Miss Galatea Merrythought, is getting old now and she's requested some time off. Rather than spend a lot of time searching for new applicants, I can't see any problem why Headmaster Dippet wouldn't appoint you as our new teacher. You seem intelligent, competent, responsible…You'd be perfect."

"I…I don't know."

"We could also spend some time trying to determine why you're here as well." He said in a hushed tone. Hermione contemplated. "As well as your own rooms here in the castle, you'd be given a very generous salary, all the resources you need at you fingertips…" Hermione still looked thoughtful. "Miss Granger, how long are we going to pretend that you have not already decided to stay?" His eyes twinkled.

!"!

Hermione was very impressed with her rooms. They were vastly spacious, had a large bedroom, bathroom, living space. Two paintings hid the secret passageways to the staff room and to her classroom. It was perfect. And at sunset, she had a beautiful view of the castle grounds.

She and Dumbledore were walking to the Great Hall for breakfast with the other professors.

"You must know that the school year is to start in a month, Hermione?"

"Yes, I do, Albus. Why?" She asked, her arm looped through his.

"Because I would like you to assist me in bringing the muggleborns into this world. We would go to their homes, explain magic and about Hogwarts, take them to Diagon Alley to shop for their supplies and escort them to Platform 9 and ¾. It only takes a few days and the students tend to like you better after that. And due to your heritage, you would be a wise choice in how to bring the new children into this world." He smiled again

She laughed. "I think I could accompany you, certainly."

"Good. I shall drop off the list of your students to collect and their locations and the letters and run you through procedure."

!"!

"…Then you should probably demonstrate some magic. Maybe levitating something or making something dance. That's usually enjoyable for the children." They shared a small laugh and Hermione perused the list of students. Her breath caught when she saw a name halfway down the list. 'Thomas Riddle Jr'. "Something the matter, dear?"

"No." She looked up and shook her head. "No problem at all."


	3. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Kid and I**

**Chapter 2**

The next day, Hermione was walking through the streets of muggle London. It was raining heavily and she was protecting her new expensive robes with a large umbrella. Under her robes though, was a pencil skirt, heels and a blouse. She was amazed to find such things in the 30's and in a magical shop. She walked towards the muggle orphanage with one thing on her mind; killing Tom Riddle. She didn't know what had led her think of such a thing but something in her mind said that there could not be a War if there was no-one to start it. Her wand was in her pocket and she knew the spell. It didn't matter to her if she was fired or even handed over to the Ministry; she just wanted to finish it.

She stepped in front of the large wooden door and used to knocker to bang on the door. Footsteps approached the entrance from the inside and then the door opened. A middle aged woman with a hard face answered the door.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Professor Helen Gray. I'm here to talk to Thomas Riddle Junior. I heard he was here."

"Yes, he is. You're finally here to talk to Tom. Thank God." She said quietly. "Please, come in." She held the door open and Hermione stepped inside, shaking her umbrella off outside.

"I'm Mrs Cole. I run the orphanage." She stuck out her hand for Hermione to shake. Hermione put her hand in the older woman's and hid her grimace when her hand was held firmly and shook madly. "Tom's upstairs." She led the way to a tall staircase. "I must admit to some confusion upon reading your letter. In all the years Tom's lived here, he's never once had a visitor."

"Why not?"

"There's been…Incidents with the other children. Nasty things."

"What kind of incidents?" Hermione asked hesitantly as she removed her robes and folded them over her arm, holding her umbrella.

"Well put it this way; a rabbit doesn't just climb into the rafters and hang itself for fun!"

Hermione's stomach churned at the image her mind produced. "How do you know it was Mr Riddle?"

She seemed to bristle. "Working in my line of work for as long as I have gives you experiences."

"So you don't actually know that it was Riddle? No evidence?"

Mrs Cole ignored her and led the younger woman to a small room and knocked on the door. "Tom? You have a visitor." She opened the door and Hermione's heart was strangely filled with an odd pity when she saw a small boy standing next to the window, watching the rain trickle down the glass. He turned and Hermione looked into the eyes of a small hurt boy, confused at the woman standing in his room. Hermione stepped into the room slowly, trying to offer no threat and Mrs Cole left, closing the door behind her.

"Hello, Tom. I'm Professor Helen Gray." He said nothing. She slowly sat down on his bed, putting her robes and umbrella to the side of her hip. She crossed her legs delicately and tried to look nice. He looked her over, taking in her blouse and skirt.

"You're a doctor, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not." She folded her hands over her crossed knee.

"You look like one. Have they called you? To talk to me? She wants me looked at."

"No, Tom, they didn't. Can I call you Tom?" He nodded reluctantly. "I'm a teacher, Tom. I teach at a school called Hogwarts."

"What kind of school is that?"

Hermione saw a chair next to where Tom was standing, but noted how he didn't sit down. "It's a school for magic." She said gently but bluntly.

"There's no such thing as magic."

"I promise you, there is. I'm a witch. And you're a wizard."

He seemed thoughtful. "Prove it."

Hermione decided that making something dance would not be sufficient in Riddle's case. And he wouldn't find it amusing either. She decided to follow Dumbledore's example and go for the big and flashy. She turned her head to the wardrobe and made it burst into flames. She turned her head back to watch Tom's face. The firelight flickered off his pale complexion and saw how his eyes were filled with awe. The flames died down and the wardrobe remained intact. However, it started to wobble and creak.

"I think something's in here, Tom." He looked guilty. "Fetch it, please." He knew not to argue with the firm tone. He walked over to the wardrobe, opened the door and then pulled out a shoe box. He handed it to her and she opened it. Inside were several items, like toys. "Are these yours?" He shook his head. She knew what had happened. "Theft is not tolerated at Hogwarts, Tom. You'll return these to their owners, with an apology." She put the lid on the box and put it on the bed next to her.

"What happens now? With this school?"

Hermione began to explain about Hogwarts and where it was and what Tom would learn. He seemed to accept and absorb everything she said, sitting down slowly. She handed him his letter and then picked up her robes and umbrella and turned to leave.

"I can speak to snakes." He burst out. She froze with her hand on the doorknob. She slowly turned to him as he continued to speak. "They find me. They talk to me. Is that normal? Does everyone do that?"

She tried to approach with caution. "No, Tom. Not everyone can do that. Only certain people can."

"Does that make me a freak?"

"No. It just means you can do something that not many others can."

"Can you do it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not like you." She said simply as she left.

!"!

It took Hermione three days to go round to every muggleborns' house and explain about magic. Most of the families accepted that their children had magical powers. Some didn't. In those cases, Dumbledore had instructed her to use the _Obliviate_ spell. 'If they don't want to accept it, then we can't have them going around and talking about it' he reasoned. She nodded reluctantly and cast the spell with a heavy heart.

However, she was looking forward to the day ahead. It was the day when she and Albus took the muggleborns, and Tom, to Diagon Alley. She and Albus were meeting the new students and their families inside the Leaky Cauldron to take them to the magical street. Dumbledore held the door open for Hermione politely and allowed her to enter first. She stepped into the warm and cosy room and smiled when she saw all the families mingling and talking to each other, the children chatting and laughing. But she felt the strange pity in her gut again when she saw Tom sitting at a table by himself.

"Good afternoon, everyone." Dumbledore called through the pub. The families quietened down when they saw the man and woman who had introduced them to magic. "Thank you all for coming today, we realise it will have been quite a journey for some of you. For those of you who do not recognise us, I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, deputy headmaster and teacher of Transfiguration at Hogwarts, and this is Professor Helen Gray, who will start her first year of teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts come September." Hermione watched as Tom straightened up when he heard her name. He looked over to her and she saw him almost smile at her. "If you'd all like to gather your belongings, would you please follow Professor Gray through to the entrance to Diagon Alley."

"Hello, everyone, if you'd follow me please." She smiled politely, walking through to the back and waiting for everyone to be ready. "Can everyone see me?" When she saw sure everyone could see her, she slowly tapped out the combination to enter the Alley. She stood back so they could all appreciate and gasp in awe when the bricks moved and made way for the wall to open for them all. "Welcome, everybody, to Diagon Alley. Now, this street is usually brimming with life but Professor Dumbledore has managed to convince everyone to let us have the street for ourselves for today." She walked down the street, stopping half way down. "Now, what's first on the list?" She grinned.

"I believe everyone should get their wands first, Helen." Dumbledore called with a smile, walking down to the group.

"Well, Olivander's is just there. So, who would you like to escort?"

"I feel lucky about the left side of our group." He joked.

"Then I'll take the right." If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn that she saw Tom take a step to the right, to be classed as her group. She smiled to herself. "Well, the right side, shall we go fetch our books?"


	4. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Kid and I**

**Chapter 3**

An hour later, Hermione's group had fetched their books, robes, cauldrons and crystal phials. She had just finished explaining what first years would learn in Potions to the group, letting them mill about the Apothecary shop while she gave her voice-box a rest. She leant against a counter when Tom approached her.

"Hello, Tom. Having fun?"

"Yes, miss."

"How do you like Diagon Alley so far?"

"It's very nice, miss." He shifted from foot to foot for a minute. "About what I told you in the orphanage?"

"Yes?" She leant in to him to hear his quiet voice more clearly.

"You won't tell anyone, right? About the snake thing?"

"Of course I won't." She lied with a smile. She fully intended to tell Dumbledore when the time was right. She straightened up and smiled at him. He sort of smiled back. "Let's see your books." He handed them to her and she smiled sadly when she saw that they were all second hand. She gave them back and he put them in his cauldron. "What animal were you thinking of getting?"

"The school's fund doesn't cover animals." He said. "I read about it in this book." He held up _Hogwarts: A History_. She smiled grimly; he was already displaying some Voldemort characteristics – always knowledgeable. She only hoped that she could get to him before he completely turned.

!"!

"Okay, now ladies and gentlemen, we're going to head over to Olivander's now, to get your wands." She led the way to the shop and saw that the man looked the same, if having fewer wrinkles in his face.

"Hello, everyone." His rasping voice called through the shop. He walked through from the back and stood behind his counter. "Welcome to Olivander's shop. I'm Mr Olivander and I'll be getting you your wands. Who wants to go first?" None of the children said anything. Hermione laughed. Olivander looked at her slightly pleadingly but she simply shrugged and bit her finger gently to stifle the laughs. "Well someone has to go first."

"I'll go first." Tom said bravely, stepping out of the crowd, putting his parcels down next to the counter.

"Very well, young man. Let me look at you." He came round from his counter and then nodded thoughtfully. "Hmmm." He went back to his stores and came back with a wand box. He opened it and handed it to Tom gently. The boy gripped it firmly, like he'd held one before and then stood there expectantly. "Well, wave it then."

Tom looked around and flicked it at the wall. A bang sounded and everyone jumped as he put a hole in the wall.

"No, not that one." Olivander took the wand back and came back with another one. "Try this then."

Tom flicked it at the wall he'd just dented and with another bang, the hole was bigger.

"No, I don't think so." He took it back and came with another.

Tom repeated the process of flicking the wall but this time, a hum sounded and the wall was repaired with a bright flash.

"Yes, that's more like it. Thirteen and a half inches, made from yew, with a Phoenix tail feather. Very nice." He handed Tom the wand box and looked at the group. "Who's next?"

!"!

Hermione stood on Platform 9 and ¾ while the parents kissed and hugged their children goodbye. Dumbledore was escorting muggleborns through from the other side and Hermione welcomed them and told them what to do before the train left. She was surprised when Tom came through with his trolley, alone.

She smiled warmly. "Hello, Tom."

"Hello, miss."

"No one with you?"

"No, miss."

"What about the orphanage?"

"I said I was going to a boarding school and Mrs Cole said that was fine."

"No one come to see you off?"

"No, miss."

She hated feeling such pity in her gut when she looked at the boy. In only a few short years, he would become the world's most powerful and forceful dictators. But when he stood before her, pushing a heavy trolley by himself, she felt such a horrible queasiness that she wanted to just hug him.

"Well, get onto that train, mister. It's nearly eleven." She said playfully, pointing the way to the luggage carts. "See you at Hogwarts."

"Yes, miss." He walked off, steering the trolley awkwardly.

Dumbledore came through and stood next to her and they watched Tom hand his luggage to one of the train helpers.

"Such an extraordinary child."

"You don't know the half of it." She said glumly.

!"!

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts." Headmaster Dippet called through the Great Hall. Hermione noticed how his voice wasn't as authoritative or Dumbledore's. "We welcome back our students, and we also welcome our new students." Hermione expected him to say more he then started giving out the rules about the Forbidden Forest, and Hogsmeade and curfew and such. Dumbledore then stood up and walked around to the Sorting Stool in front of the teachers' table and the house tables. He picked up the scroll with the names of the new students and then picked up the Sorting Hat.

"When I call your name, you will step forward and sit on the stool. I will then place the Sorting Hat on your head and you will be given your new house."

The Sorting went as usual, Gryffindor gaining fourteen students, twelve to Hufflepuff, eleven to Ravenclaw and Slytherin also had fourteen. When it was Tom's turn, Hermione leant forward to watch how it occurred, waiting in fear.

"Thomas Riddle." Dumbledore called. Tom was the last student to be Sorted, and walked forward confidently. But Hermione sensed he was actually nervous. He sat on the stool and the Sorting Hat was placed on his head.

"Hmmm…Yes…Definitely…Slytherin!"

Hermione was slightly disappointed about how anti-climatic it was and leant back and clapped. _"So now it begins."_

!"!

"Everyone, please quieten down." Hermione called through the classroom as she walked down the middle of the desk. It was her first lesson and she was nervous, having had to use a Stomach Settler and a Calming Draught to be able to walk into the room. She saw that it was a Gryffindor and Slytherin class of first years. _'Wonderful'_ she inwardly groaned. There were a few more boys than girls and the class was an odd number. She also noticed how the Gryffindors sat on the left and the Slytherins on the right. She also noticed that Tom sat alone at the front, a large pile of second-hand books on his desk. The students stopped talking immediately and turned to look at their new teacher. The boys' eyes had childish admiration in them while the girls' held jealousy at her curves and figure. She couldn't help but look at Tom and noticed how he didn't seem fazed about her skirt and blouse but his eyes were admiring nonetheless.

"Welcome to your first lesson at Hogwarts." She hopped onto her desk at the front. "It's my first lesson as well and I'm sure we're all quite nervous. But don't worry, I only nibble." The girls giggled and the boys laughed. Except Tom. "This year I'm going to teach you some defence skills and about some Dark Creatures. It doesn't sound like much but I'm sure we can fill the year with it, and have a bit of fun while we're at it." She smiled around the room and cleared her throat. "Now, who knows the incantation for a simple stunning spell?"


	5. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Kid and I**

**Chapter 4**

The year progressed slowly until Christmas and then time seemed to fly after that. All too soon, it was time for the end of year tests, that Hermione had to write and plan herself, but she was confident that she had prepared her students well enough and that her tests were fair but thorough. She was marking them one night and was getting quite annoyed with some of the answers. 'Name three properties of 'Expelliarmus' – 'it stuns, I don't know, I don't know'. She groaned to herself as she read another one, giving the student an Acceptable and then moved onto the next one. Her intrigue picked up again when she saw that the paper in her hand was Tom's. She straightened up and read through the questions. For a first year, the answers were very well written and explained. Throughout the entire paper, he only dropped four marks – and Hermione was being quite firm with the mark scheme. Signing an 'O' in the top right corner, she smiled to herself.

!"!

The second year started much like the previous one. Hermione had first years first on the first day and she took the lesson along a similar plan to what she had last year. She sighed to herself when the door opened and the next class filed in. It was the second year Slytherin/Gryffindors. She stood up and unfolded her arms with a smile.

"Welcome back, everyone."

"Hello, Professor." The class chorused as they took their seats.

"Good summer?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Oh, come on, have a little oomph!" She and the class laughed. "Well, I have your end of year tests from last year…" She smiled as she picked up a pile of parchments and all the students, except Tom, groaned. "It's okay, you did very well. I was very pleased with myself." She grinned as she started to disperse the tests with a simple spell. "You all passed, which was good, mostly E's. A few A's, not so good, but there were two or three O's which was excellent. So give yourself a pat on the back."

The room filled with soft laughter and small applause and then Hermione let them gossip a bit about their scores. Tom merely looked over his paper, put it in his bag and then sat up straight again. Hermione walked over to him, crouched in front of his desk and then smiled at him.

"How was your summer, Tom?"

"It was very well, thank you, Professor." He said stiffly.

His face had changed slightly over the summer, becoming a little more mature. His eyes were faintly darker, his hair a little longer and curlier. He was also an inch or so taller and had more meat on his bones which gave him a healthier look.

"How was your score?"

"I'm very pleased with my score."

"You got an O, didn't you?"

"Yes, Professor."

Hermione smiled at him, not knowing what to say next. She stood up and then cleared her throat, making everyone look at her. "Okay, everyone, this lesson we're going to be doing about Hinkypunks."

!"!

Hermione was marking the most recent test that she had given to her second year classes and perked up when she picked up Tom's parchment. His answers were always very thorough and decently worded. However, as she read through his answers, she was horrified to see that every single answer he had was wrong, or near enough wrong. The answers on the parchment had been written to seem like a good guess but they were completely off. 'List the property of the charm _Colloportus_' – 'opens windows'. Gravely disappointed, Hermione signed a T on the top and put it on top of the pile. For the first time in over eighteen months, Tom Riddle had failed a test.

!"!

"Now, remember everyone; the parchment must be eighteen inches long! And no cheating, Kyle!" A boy in the middle of the classroom groaned as he slung his bag over his shoulder. "Now, go on." She smiled. Then she saw the test on her desk. "Mr Riddle, stay behind please."

Tom perked up, placed his bag strap over his shoulder and approached her desk. "Yes, professor?"

She picked up his test and then waited until the last of the students had left her room. "It's about your test."

"Yes…I have a feeling I didn't do very well. What was my grade? An A? An E?"

"You got a T, Tom."

Tom seemed put out, but not genuinely so. "Oh."

"What went wrong, Tom?"

"I didn't understand the material in class."

"Really? Because I think you understood the material very well." She said dangerously. Tom wasn't swayed.

"Honestly, professor. I don't think I understand the class very well."

"You were top in your class last year. What changed?"

"I don't know, professor."

"Any explanation at all?" She would have actually settled for something as cheesy as 'my owl ate my homework'.

He shrugged. "Unfortunately not, professor."

She sighed. "Well then I have to fail you. And that means-"

"I have to attend private study outside of school hours three nights a week until my grades are at a steady level."

She raised her eyebrow. "Yes, that's exactly right."

"What days are suitable for you, professor?"

"Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. Report here on those days at 9pm."

"Yes, professor." He turned and started to leave.

"Tom."

He turned and looked at her as she scowled. "Yes, professor?"

"I'm serious with this. If you don't get good grades soon, you'll be submitted for more serious tests, and your place at Hogwarts could be in jeopardy. Do you understand that?"

"Perfectly, professor."

"Good. Now get out of here and send the next class in." She didn't mean to sound so bitter but Tom was her best student from first to fourth year and it was almost a personal insult that he was failing.

Tom left, sending in the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw sixth years. He walked down the corridor, pausing when he saw Abraxas Malfoy leaning against a pillar, as arrogant as ever, looking at him. Malfoy was a second year, like Tom, had a few close friends and had his own private rooms, though he spent a lot of time in the Slytherin common room.

"What did she want?"

"_Professor Gray_ wanted to talk to me about my test result."

"What, did you pass even more than you already do?" He sounded bitter.

"Actually, I failed." Malfoy looked shocked and followed Tom as he walked down the corridor.

"You failed? Tom Riddle failed a test?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I didn't answer all the questions correctly."

"Why?"

"That's none of your concern."

It dawned on Abraxas. "Oh. I see. You like the professor."

"Be quiet, Malfoy."

"You really like her? Why?"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Tom roared, turning on the older boy and glaring at him. That was the first time his eyes turned red.


	6. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Kid and I**

**Chapter 5**

"Tom, are you listening?" Hermione demanded. It was the third time that Tom had met with Hermione after hours and she was getting annoyed. He'd nod along with her whenever she was explaining something, would seem to understand her but then when he was asked a question; he would shrug and shake his head. Normally, she is able to be very patient with a student when they didn't understand, if they truly didn't, but she was smart enough to know that Tom was a faker, and a bad one at that.

"Of course I am, professor."

"Did you understand what I just said?"

"Yes, I do, professor. To defeat a Hinkypunk, you must-"

"Why are you doing this, Tom?" She asked bluntly.

"Pardon?"

"Pretending to be stupid. You're a smart boy. Why are you doing this? We're wasting each other's time."

"I…There's something about you, professor, that…Calms me. Normally, I am quite an angry person. But with you…It fades away."

"Do you think I wasn't smart enough to figure out what you were doing?"

"Of course I don't think that, miss." He hadn't called her 'miss' in years, only when he was desperate or uncertain and seeing as how that occasion had stopped happening, the use of the name had died out.

"Do you understand what I've been teaching in class?"

"Yes, professor."

"Then you don't need any private tuition. Pack up and get out of here." He nodded solemnly and began to do so. She watched him as he closed his bag and stood up. "And, Tom?"

"Yes, professor."

"I don't want to see your grades dropping again. If they do, we'll have serious words, and they won't be nice ones. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, professor."

"Good. Now get back to your common room. It's late."

"Goodnight, professor."

"Night, kid." She'd taken to calling him that over the past few months. She didn't know where it came from or why she chose that particular word, it just felt right. She knew he didn't particularly like the name, but that was the point. It was supposed to be a bit derogatory, in an attempt to degrade his self-esteem and lower the chances of him becoming Voldemort. She was naturally a kind person and she didn't like the idea of belittling a student, but she knew that it was for the greater good. Of course, she had also considered the other side of the argument. The hurt and embarrassment of her belittling him could also turn him into Voldemort. She knew it was a fifty-fifty chance, so she decided to go with the method she thought would most likely have a chance of winning. And if she had to make herself look like a bitch, then so be it.

!"!

"Have Mr Riddle's grades improved yet?" Dumbledore asked Hermione as they sat at the top table in the Great Hall. The end of second year was approaching, and so were the end of year tests.

"Yes, they have. He's back onto his usual O's and E's."

"He doesn't seem very happy, though."

"He's not a happy child." She said simply, taking a slice of chocolate and cream gateau.

"Have you prepared all of your end of year tests for your students?"

"I have, Albus. I think they're all fair and thorough. And I look forward to a nice long summer of marking them all." She joked. Albus' eyes twinkled as he shared her amusement. "What about your tests?"

"They're all complete and ready to be tried. I hope my students do as well as last year."

"So do I. Still, an eighty-nine percent pass rate is still pretty good." She smiled to herself at her own accomplishment.

"Indeed, you should be proud. I can only imagine how well Mr Riddle will do. He's sure to pass with flying colours."

"I believe he will."

"He's a very bright boy."

"He's a very special boy."

"What you…What you told me. Of what is to occur in…In time. It is still to happen?"

"It's too early to know for certain. But I think…Yes. I think most likely it will happen."

"Oh dear."

"You could say that, Albus."

"Yes…We shall have to be prepared."

"We are prepared. If my plan fails, you always have time to try and gather your forces."

"Do you know of how you will return home?"

"No. As far as I know, I'm stuck here, I think."

"I've put a proposition to the Ministry of Magic. We have Time Turners that can go backwards through time. But what an interesting idea it would be if we could go forwards as well."

"And what did they say?"

"They said they would start work as soon as possible."

"Thank Merlin."

!"!

Third year came and went.

Fourth year was when things began to get interesting. Tom became tall and handsome, and slightly dangerous. In his first few years, Tom was never seen talking to people, and never seemed to have any friends. But at the start of fourth year, that all changed. All the boys were scrambling to sit near Tom and to talk with him, and all the girls were always watching him and smiling at him. It was curious to Hermione how the status quo had changed so drastically and so suddenly. Tom, the lonely little boy, had suddenly become Tom, the young man everyone wanted to be seen with. And she was not the only one watching.

Whenever she was at the front of the class, or marking papers while the classes worked, or dining in the Great Hall, she'd feel his gaze. Every time he thought she didn't know, he watched her. He'd watch her hands when she wrote, he'd watch her mouth when she spoke, he'd watch her legs as she walked. It seemed that he was now a young man, who was learning the art of womanising and flirtation. At first it was flattering, but it was getting a little odd. For his first few years, she knew he watched her, but she thought it was out of curiosity, maybe even admiration – she was the woman who had brought magic into his life, and she had always imagined that he watched her to learn more about his new life and everything around him. That was possibly true for first and second year, but what about the third and now the fourth? She needed to talk to him without being too obvious that she knew he was watching her. The truth of it was; him watching her made her very uncomfortable. Everyone around him could feel his power growing and she knew it was only a matter of time before he chose his future as Lord Voldemort. She also knew that she did not have that long to get to him. She would have to do it soon.


	7. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Kid and I**

**Chapter 6**

"Good morning, professor." Tom greeted smoothly as he leant against the wall to her classroom. Fifth year had started a few months ago and every Tuesday and Friday morning when Hermione had Gryffindor/Slytherin fifth years first, he was always waiting outside her room, ready for the lesson ahead. Hermione had been surprised at first, normally her students filed in a few minutes after the enormous clock in the courtyard had sounded, its ringing echoing through the entire castle.

"Good morning, Tom." She greeted back politely, sipping her Pepper-Up potion. She opened the door wide for him to enter and checked her watch. 8:56. He'd beat his own record of being early. She didn't help the problem either, by always letting him in. Her reasoning was that it was cold in the corridors – which it was – and she didn't want any students being cold and falling ill. Her rooms were always warm. Not too hot or too warm, but cosy and cushy.

Tom stepped into the classroom and was about to put his bag down on his desk when Hermione stopped him.

"I'm moving the desks for this lesson, we're having a practical."

"Shall I assist you, professor?" He pulled his wand out, ready.

She knew he was powerful but she doubted that he could perform the spell good enough not to damage anything and have the tables neat and tidy at the side of the room.

"No, thank you, Tom, I can manage."

"Are you sure? I'd be glad to help you."

Knowing he was not going to give in, she sighed to herself and nodded. As she watched as he waved his wand and said the incantation, she was surprised when the tables and chairs lifted themselves up and very smoothly glided to the side of the room and arranged themselves to be very space efficient.

"Well done, Tom, I must say."

"Thank you, professor." His face lit up with the delight of her praise.

"Tom, can I ask you to step outside while I set up the practical? We can't have you having a head start." She smiled. His face dropped.

"Of course, professor."

He left the room in a huff and closed the door, not slamming it but closing it louder than he would normally. She sighed to herself again and began to organise the room for what would be an interesting lesson.

!"!

It was like her third year. There was a cabinet in the middle of the room with a Boggart inside it, and the class in a group in front of it with Hermione at the back of the room. When the cabinet gave a particularly large shudder, the girls gasped and some of the boys stepped back a little but the Slytherin boys put on a brave face.

"Can anyone guess what's inside?"

"It's a Boggart, professor." Tom answered.

"Very good, Mr Riddle. Now, can anyone tell me what a Boggart looks like?"

"No one knows." Tom answered again.

"Thank you, Mr Riddle. And can anyone tell me why that is?"

Before Tom could speak, a girl from the side of the room spoke quickly. "Because they're shape-shifters and whenever someone looks at them, they always appear to be what that person fears the most."

"Thank you, Miss Hall. Ten points to Gryffindor." Tom bristled when she gave the points, annoyed due to the fact that he had answered more questions yet he had not received any points. "Okay, now put your hand up if you know how to defeat a Boggart." Only Tom raised his hand. "Anyone?" No change. "Just a guess?" Again, no change. "Okay, Tom."

"With the _Riddikulus_ charm."

She walked around the students to stand at the front of the classroom. "Exactly. Now, hands up if you know what that charm will do." Only Tom raised his hand. "Anyone? … Anyone at all? … Come on, you must know!" Tom waved his hand impatiently. "Okay, Tom, tell us."

"It forces the Boggart to assume a form that the caster finds amusing."

"Yes. Now, let's just practice that charm, shall we? No wands, thank you. After me, Ri-di-koo-luss."

"Ridiculous."

"Not quite. Listen carefully. Ri-di-koo-luss."

"_Riddikulus!"_

"Wonderful. Now, can I have a volunteer?" To her surprise, Tom did not raise his hand. He probably didn't want to dive into the unknown. "It's alright, I only nibble." The boys laughed and the girls tittered. "Okay, I shall choose a volunteer for us then. Hmmm…Mr Taylor."

A boy near the back of the room tried to hide his now bright red face. One of the boys behind him pushed him forward roughly, he stumbled a little before collecting himself and walking to the front of the room.

"Nice of you to join me, Mr Taylor. Now, what frightens you most in the entire world?"

"Profedumdor."

"Pardon?"

"Professor Dumbledore." He said more clearly.

Some people laughed but Hermione simply chuckled. "Why?"

"He's weird."

She smiled. "Fair enough. Now, how can we turn him into something funny? Anyone have any ideas?"

"Make him sing!"

"Make him dance!"

"Dress him up!"

Hermione laughed. "Very good ideas! How about all three? Mr Taylor, can you try to imagine Professor Dumbledore singing and dancing in a strange outfit?"

He smiled and nodded. "I think so, professor."

"Okay then. Now, face the cabinet." She turned him gently to face it and pulled him a few feet back. "Okay, you know the charm and you know your funny thing. Are you ready?"

"Uh…I think so."

"Okay. I'm right here, you won't get hurt. You'll do fine." She squeezed his shoulders encouragingly and stepped back a little. "One. Two. Three." She clicked her fingers and the cabinet door slowly opened. There was nothing for a few seconds before the door opened wider and professor Dumbledore was seen standing inside it. He stepped out of the cabinet and advanced on the boy.

"Lemon drop?"

"_Riddikulus!"_ He waved his wand at the Boggart, which shuddered and then began to tap-dance while singing and his robes turned into a multi-coloured suit.

Everyone in the class roared with laughter. Hermione had to hold her side with joy and wipe a tear away. The Boggart kept dancing even though Hermione had sent the boy back to his place.

"See? It works! Now, everyone, form a line and we'll tackle this thing one by one."

The students formed a line, with Tom second in line. A girl went first, the Boggart transforming into a huge spider, like one had with Ron. She waved her wand and the Boggart turned into a tiny kitten chasing its tail. Hermione smiled at the scene, the girls cooed and the boys laughed and pointed at the silly animal.

"Okay, next."

Tom stepped forward and the Boggart focused on him and then changed. Hermione hadn't known what to expect. She didn't expect something common like spiders or snakes, but when she saw what the Boggart turned into, she'd wished that Tom had had normal fears. For she had not expected to see her body lying on the floor, covered in blood and obviously dead.


	8. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Kid and I**

**Chapter 7**

Everyone in the room gasped when they saw the Boggart's new form. Everyone except Tom, who was staring at Hermione's blood-covered corpse, looked to see their professor's reaction. She gave none.

"Tom. Defeat the Boggart." She commanded in a voice as hard as stone.

He snapped out of his Trans and waved his wand at the Boggart, which then transformed into a miniature of a burnt out building. Hermione noticed a twisted and gnarled sign that had the word 'orphanage' on it. Everyone waited as the Boggart did nothing and then Hermione managed to put it back into the wardrobe, locking it in firmly.

"Class is over. Everyone, get out." She said quietly and tiredly as she sank into her seat, resting her head in her hand as she closed her eyes miserably.

For four years, she had done everything she could to undermine Tom and try to diminish the future possibility of him becoming Voldemort. But she had failed. Everything she had done had only made Tom fall in love with her. 'That must be the backfire of the century' she thought, almost laughing at the irony. She heard the classroom door open and two dozen sets of footsteps leave the room.

"Professor?" It was Tom.

"I told everyone to leave."

"Professor, I didn't mean for that to happen."

"But it did. And it doesn't change the fact that my death is what you fear most in the world, and it doesn't change the fact that you are still in my classroom."

"Professor, I just-"

Her eyes shot open in fury. "Get out, Riddle!"

He visibly blanched and even recoiled into himself a little but he did not leave, or even step back. "No."

"Riddle, I am serious."

"I don't care."

"You're disobeying your teacher."

"I don't care." He took two steps towards her.

"I could take points."

"I don't care." He took another two steps.

"I could give you detention."

"I don't care." He took another two steps.

"I could have you suspended."

"I don't care." More steps.

"I could have you expelled."

"I don't care." He was now in front of her chair.

She whispered as he leant into her. "I could hurt you."

He gently cupped her cheek. "I don't care." He leant into her and kissed her lips gently.

!"!

"Are you angry with me?" Tom asked softly as he lay behind her in her bed, his head supported on his hand. He trailed his fingertips in circles on her hips, yet she was unresponsive to it.

She was curled up in a ball, clutching her pillow to her chest. "I'm furious at myself. I can't believe I did that with a student."

"It was wonderful." He leant forward and kissed her shoulder.

"Kid, stop it!" She shot up in bed, threw the covers off her and stormed into the bathroom. She grabbed her dressing gown off the back of the door and fastened it around her angrily.

"Helen, what's wrong?"

"Stop calling me that! You can't call me that!"

"Professor!"

"Stop it! Just…Just stop!"

"Stop what?" He sat up in bed, drawing the covers over his waist. "I can't call you by your name and you won't let me call you professor! What am I supposed to do?"

"Just shut up! Stop talking! Just get your clothes and get out."

"Prof-"

"Now!"

He sighed, climbed out of bed and walked past her into her study. He brushed past her and as his skin touched her hand, she tried desperately to keep in her sigh of pleasure. She waited as he dressed, and then sighed again as he left without a word.

!"!

The next few months were unbearable for Hermione. She desperately tried to ignore Tom, and at first it was easy enough. For a month or so he seemed perfectly happy to ignore her and glare at her. He never let the quality of his work slip but she found herself giving him lower marks then she would normally. He obviously knew this but he never complained or went to Headmaster Dippet to tell of her injustice, though she knew the only reason he didn't would be because he would have to tell Dippet that he and Hermione had slept together, thus getting her fired, which was not what he wanted at all.

Though after about six weeks, his anger seemed to die down and he would start looking at her with his usual lust and admiration. She'd tried grading him even harder, though that only made him look at her with even more longing, his head filled with school boy desires. And if she graded him loosely, then he would earn high marks for nothing, which was something he didn't necessarily mind. If she was kind, she was trapped. If she was cruel, she was trapped.

It was then that her body had started to betray her. She'd watched Tom Riddle grow from a lonely little boy to a powerful young man, and her body and a part of her mind were starting to betray her. Whenever she saw him, her mind instantly filled with the memories of their erotic last meeting. She had to shake herself to be able to continue with her lessons and desperately try not to purposefully give him detention as to spend time alone with him, where she was sure that she would given in to her mad desires. She wished she'd never met Tom Riddle.

!"!

June 1942. It was the end of Tom's fifth year, and it was time for his OWLs. All the fifth and seventh years were all nervous and stressed and cramming for their exams. However, Tom seemed perfectly calm and able to spend massive amounts of time quietly studying in the library, his nose deeply buried in a book while he jotted down notes. Hermione's lessons were dull at that time. Her fifth and seventh year lessons were all about revising, and all her other classes were about making up tests, giving tests, marking tests and going over tests. Every night she found herself thinking about how fun her life could be if she simply gave in to Tom Riddle and the lustful looks he'd give her when he knew no one else was looking. At first it was annoying as she had been starting to be able to not think about him every second of every day. But when he started to look at her with lust in his eyes again, she had started to day dream about him again, and how enjoyable their hour together had been. Yes, he was young and inexperienced, but she was a busy woman and teaching at Hogwarts did not lend a lot of time for pleasurable pastimes and it was flattering how a young boy was finding her attractive. And it had been a while since her last erotic escapade. She was being tormented, and he knew it. And he enjoyed it.

!"!

Summer came and went and before Hermione knew it, the students had returned and it was time for school. Again. On the first night, Tom had gone to Hermione's quarters and boldly knocked on her door as she was planning her next lesson. She answered the door and was pleasantly surprised when she saw Tom there, a letter in his hand.

"Tom?"

"Professor."

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd find you to tell you my OWL results. I thought you'd want to see them."

She was momentarily speechless but then beckoned him in. "Yes, of course. Are you pleased with your results?"

"I don't know them, I haven't opened them." She closed the door and he handed her the envelope, "I thought I'd wait for you."

"You thought…Pardon?" She examined the unopened envelope briefly, not seeing a hint of any attempt to open it. She looked at him in confusion, but he simply nodded to the envelope, encouraging her to open it. She did so, and unfolded the letter.

'_Transfiguration O, Potions O, Defence Against the Dark Arts O, Herbology E. Astronomy E__, Charms O, Care of Magical Creatures E, Ancient Runes O, History of Magic O, Arithmancy O, Muggle Studies O'_

She looked up at him, stunned. She smiled and handed it to him. "Very well done, Mister Riddle." She said, glowing with pride. "Eight Outstanding and three Exceeds Expectations."

He looked them over and frowned. "I could have done better,"

She laughed. "Well we can't all be as smart as me." She smiled at him. "You should be proud. They're very good-"

She was cut off abruptly by his lips crashing to hers.

!"!

**A/N: I would just like to say, before anyone accuses me of paedophilia – Tom is already fifteen years old ****–**** which is the age of consent in the Wizarding world, therefore Hermione/Helen is not technically a paedophile! This is because his birthday is around Christmas time and in my Hogwarts world; students enter the year already at the age which is the number….That was confusing! Sorry I mean that students are already eleven when they start First Year; they are already twelve in Second Year; they've turned thirteen by the start of Third year and so on and so forth which means that Tom will turn sixteen at Christmas of fifth year.**


	9. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Kid and I**

**Chapter 8**

"Are you going to shout at me again?"

"No." Tom lay behind Hermione in her bed. They'd just spent the last two hours making love and were both pleasantly exhausted. "I've spent the last few months desperately trying to not want you. Hasn't worked out so well." She smiled in spite of herself.

"Good, because I'm rather comfortable here." He laid his hand on her hip.

"Tom, you have to go back to your common-room. You can't spend the night here; people will wonder where you are. It's past curfew now. And I can't give you a note either."

He sighed tiredly. "Yes, I suppose you're right." He heaved a sigh and sat up in bed, looking around for his clothes. She sat up and watched him as he dressed, eyeing his well-built form that held a hint of muscle. As he adjusted his robes, she sat up in bed and watched him as he secured his tie. They waited in an awkward silence before Tom cleared his throat, gathered his belongings and headed back to the classroom.

She slipped on her silk dressing gown that felt to her knees and tied the sash around her waist before following him back into the classroom. She leant against the archway which joined her chambers to the classroom, watching Tom as he pulled his robes on, adjusting them to make him presentable and smartly dressed. He picked up his bag when she called his name. He turned around. "Come here." Putting his bag on the nearest desk, he walked back over to her, stood in front of her and waited. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she cupped his cheeks and pressed her lips to his gently. Confounded, he simply rested his hands on her hips and kissed her back. She pulled away a second later. "Go." With a sad nod, he turned, collected his bag and left without a word.

"My goodness, Helen dear! What have you gotten yourself into?" The elderly woman in the portrait guarding her rooms asked.

She sighed tiredly. "I have no idea."

!"!

"I wonder what's come over him."

It was lunch a week later. Helen was taking a bite of chicken salad sandwich when she overheard Nurse Davis talking to Professor Wick, the Astrology teacher.

"I'm not sure, dear. He just seems more confident. He's probably just grown into himself."

"Possibly. But it was so sudden. One day he was his normal self and it seemed that the next day he had this new level of confidence that I've never seen before!"

Her curiosity peaked. Leaning over a little, Helen asked, "Who are we talking about?" as she took a sip of her pumpkin juice.

"Tom Riddle, dear."

She choked on the pumpkin juice. Some of it went into her nose but most of it spurted out of her mouth. Coughing and receiving a pat on the back from Nurse Davis, she spluttered. "Tom Riddle?"

"Yes, dear. Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine! Just went down the wrong way, is all." She flushed as she used her wand to clean and dry her robes that now held a faint smell of pumpkin on them. "You think he's more confident now?"

"Yes, I've definitely noticed something. Last year, when he answered questions, there was always a little tremor of doubt in his voice, even though he was usually correct. But now…No doubt, no hesitance. It's like he knows that he's going to be right all the time."

Helen frowned. "Well maybe he's just studying more and knows that his answer is right?" She guessed.

Wick shrugged. "Possibly. But it's also in the way he talks to the students as well. Like he's in charge of them. Pretty much all of the First and Second years are absolutely terrified of him!"

"Well, maybe that's respect." She reasoned. "I mean, he's a Sixth year and a Prefect and he's now over six foot tall. He's probably just a little intimidating to them. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Sarah. But just in case, I'll keep an eye on him. If there's something I don't like, I'll let you know."

Except she knew she wasn't.

!"!

Helen was standing in front of her blackboard, waving her wand diligently at it whilst reading the parchment that she had written on her lesson. The aims and objectives appeared on it, along with her usual playful smiley face and space for homework at the bottom. There was a knock on the door. Calling out a 'come in!' she heard it open and close and footsteps approach her.

"You asked to see me, Professor?" It was Tom.

She cleared her throat and turned around. Yes, Professor Wick was right, he was definitely more confident. She hadn't even noticed over the week until it had been mentioned. Even then, he was already putting his bag on a desk and leaning against it, an eyebrow raised almost seductively.

"Yes, Tom, I did."

"I wonder what for…" He said quietly, his eyes glancing over her dress covered body. It wasn't a usual dress for the forties, being only an inch or two below the knee, but it definitely wasn't too scandalous or raunchy. It was cotton in a deep blue, a fairly modest V-neck cut and three quarter length sleeves. Her hair was in a messy bun at the nape of her neck and she had a little layer of make-up on.

"Tom, put it away." She mumbled. "That's exactly what I need to talk to you about. Some of the other professors are noticing a change in your behaviour and it's concerning them."

He frowned. "What kind of change?"

She walked back over to her desk, stood behind her chair and put a hand on her hip and the chair back. "You're more confident, you're getting a little arrogant and you're supposedly terrifying the littler ones."

He shrugged. "Maybe I'm just growing into myself."

"That's what I said just after I choked on my pumpkin juice at lunch."

He smiled. "I wondered what that was."

She frowned. "Tom, this is serious!"

He shrugged his shoulders and straightened up. "I'm sorry, Helen, I just don't see that it is. I'm seventeen next month; I'm almost an adult-"

"Yes, 'almost' an adult! Remember the 'almost', Tom! And don't call me Helen!" She snipped.

"You didn't mind last week."

"That was an entirely different situation!" She hissed under her breath. "Look, when we're in my chambers; fine, call me Helen all you want. But when you are in my classroom or any other classroom or the grounds or Hogsmeade or…basically anywhere that isn't my room, you call me Professor. Or Miss. Nothing else." She held up a finger threateningly.

He sighed. "Fine, _Professor_. Is that all?"

"Yes." She checked her watch. "There's six minutes until our class starts. Sit down and get your books out, I'll look over your homework."

Sitting down at his desk, he opened his bag. "Professor?"

"Yes, Tom?"

"What are you doing on Friday night?"


	10. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Kid and I**

**Chapter 9**

It was Friday night and Helen was nervous. After Tom had asked her what she was doing on Friday, she had answered honestly and said 'nothing' whilst returning to copying up the lesson plan onto the blackboard. The next thing she felt had been a pair of hands on her hips and warmth breath by her ear. Whispering how much he missed her and wanted to see her again and everything he wanted to do to her…She couldn't suppress the shivers his voice sent through her. Then all of a sudden he had pulled away and rushed to his seat as a knock sounded on the door.

Throughout the lesson, Helen had been unable to stop thinking about Tom. Since when did a twenty-six year old woman get so excited over a sixteen year old boy? Rolling her eyes in spite of herself as she thought of how desperate she had been acting all week, she leant back in the chair at her desk and picked up the next sixth year essay that she was marking. As she looked at the name in the top left corner, she knew the Fates hated her, seeing as she had just picked up Tom Riddle's essay on the Unforgivable Curses. As usual, it was over a foot longer than everyone else's, with the homework length being two foot and him having written three.

She was dressed in a satin nightgown that finished a few inches above her knees, barefoot and had her silk dressing gown wrapped loosely around her. As she leant back and rested her feet on the desk, her nightgown slipped down and left her cream thighs open to the air. Resting the parchment on her legs, she began to read through it, hardly needing to correct anything as she went. Tom had carefully listed all the Unforgivables and their incantations and required wand movements, and then had gone on to write about each one as an individual. The history of the spell, who invented it and when, what it was most used for, why it was used, were there ever to be any benefits of them…His thoroughness was both amazing and disturbing. All the other students had obviously condemned any and all usage of the spells, saying that they were Dark Magic and Dark Magic had absolutely no place in the world. Whereas Tom said that whilst these spells were known to be 'evil' and widely condemned, they could also have their uses in careful hands. It was almost hard to argue with his logic…

There was a knock on the door. Breaking out of her Trans, she looked up and saw the clock. 8:36pm. Tom had said 9pm. Surely it wasn't him? There was being early to class because you want to get into the teacher's knickers, and then there was twenty-four minutes! Putting the essay down, she pulled her robe closer to her and tied the sash on her way through her private rooms to her office and to the portrait door. Opening the door – there was a portrait on the outside but then there was a door that she had put in (visitors might know the password but she didn't want them just walking in at any time!) she saw that it was indeed Tom. He didn't say anything as he walked in, cupped her face and kissed her deeply. With a muffled protest, she pulled away and closed the door behind him.

"Not in the open, you twit!" She snapped, though not maliciously.

He shrugged and tucked his hands into his trousers pockets. "We're not in the open; we're in your rooms."

"Yes, _now_ we are." She groaned as she walked through to her sitting room. Plonking herself back down into the chair at her desk, she resumed reading Tom's essay. Meanwhile, he ambled through after her, looking around the room. She had clearly redecorated it, since there was no stone floor or walls. She'd changed the floor to dark varnished wood which was covered with rugs of various sizes, though they were all dark red with a variety of patterns. The walls were what you would expect in a normal building, painted crimson with a 'feature' wall with black wallpaper with a red vine pattern. She had kept the stone fireplace, but it didn't look out of place in the strangely decorated room.

He decided to question her about it. "This room is unusual. Is this style from where you come from?"

She nodded with a soft 'hmmm'. "I like the castle look but I wanted something from home. Plus this is more comfortable than stone."

He eyed her leaning back position and bare thighs. "I can see that." She blushed as she felt his gaze. "What are you marking?" He asked as he walked over to her desk, leaning back against it.

"Your essay on the Unforgivables."

"And?"

"You know I can't discuss student grades until they're final. We wouldn't want you influencing my decisions, now would we?" She teased.

He smirked. "No, of course not, Professor."

A minute later, she wrote an 'O' in the top corner of the paper before putting it at the bottom of the pile so he couldn't see. "Well."

He smirked again. "Well. How did I do?"

"You know I can't tell you until I tell everyone else."

He rested his hand on her knee. "What if I asked nicely?" He asked as he slid his hand further up her leg.

She let out a little breath from her nose in amusement. He really thought he would persuade her by touching her knee? He would have to do a lot better than – Oh, he did! He had quickly slid his hand from the inside of her knee to her crotch, giving it firm yet tender rubs under a flush crept up her neck and into her face. She sighed through her nose, her head tilting back as she closed her eyes, allowing the sensations to wash over her. She heard him chuckle softly, tough paid him no attention, solely focusing on the rubbing between her thighs. Abruptly, he stopped.

"Come on." He removed his hand, taking hers and starting to lead her into her bedroom when she stopped him and pulled him back into her soft feminine body.

"Where are we going?"

"Your bedroom, of course."

She smiled. "You think we need a bed every time?"

"Well…Yes."

She chuckled softly. "You pretend to be so grown up but in some ways, you really are adorable." He huffed in annoyance. "You don't need a bed for sex. In fact, some of the best times can be out of the bed."

"Yes, I-I suppose…"

"What? Don't tell me you're nervous. You weren't nervous a minute ago." She teased.

He shook his head. "I'm not nervous."

"Then hop up."

"Pardon?"

She nudged him backwards, making him hitting her desk with his thighs. In reaction, he sat down on it, inadvertently sitting on his class' homework. "Lie back." She ordered softly, standing between his legs and gently stroking his knees through his trousers. Fortunately, Helen's desk was quite large, being over six foot long and four foot deep, allowing Tom to lay back fully, his hips on the edge one side and his head resting on the wood a few inches before it stopped on the other. He shivered. She smiled. "What?"

"Well, the way you're looking at me, it's sort of reminding me of a predator…" He said nervously, unsure of how she would react.

Instead, she simply kept smiling. "A predator? And what is this predator looking like she's going to do to you?"

"She looks like she's going to eat me."

She smirked, making him blush when he realised how that must have sounded. Though he didn't mind a second later when his cock jumped to attention as she walked her fingertips up his leg and to his belt. "Trust me, darling; if I eat you, you'll only beg for more."

And he did.


	11. Authour's Note

Hi readers! It's come to my attention (by me trying to re-read the story) that this story might be a bit confusing – it's got to be, I wrote it and I'm confused! Thus, _'The Kid and I'_ will be going through a rather thorough rewrite, including the title. When it is reposted, it'll have the new title followed by 'The Kid and I' Rewrite. I don't know when it'll be posted, but I'm working on the rewrite already. Just keep being patient; it'll be back before you know it! Thank you!


End file.
